Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1887-05-19
MILIlIEIM PA. THURSDAY. MAY 10. 1887
DEAR OLD CHOPMAN.

The long drought of iST-was broken
there could be no doubt of IL. Dust, and
ment, grass, and foliage. Rain had come at
last; not In u whimsical, intermittent way ,as
pleased the idle fancy of every adventurous
gust OF wind, but In an old-fashioned eaui-
overfowing, taxed the capacity of sewers,
invaded unprotected cellars, revived youth
ful speculation touching the father of ia
phet and the bow of promise, and ground
and polished the cobble paving-stones, until
they outshone the delf-ware, and fairly ri
vailed the eyes of the thrifty Dutch house
wives, who, In the days of Stuyvesant and
Van Twiller, rtigned supreme In the red
brick, gable-fronted mansions of the lower
portion of the island of Mdndhdttd.
so far as the transaction of any business
was concerned, the firm of Dappleton 4
Company, Publishers and booksellers, might
have closed the doors of their extensive and
elegant salesrooms In Broadway. Gargan-
tunn must have been the literally thirst, and
imperyious the skin of the wight who, in
the teeth of such n storm, would seek n book
store.
And So the five clerks gathered in n little
group and discussed the weather, and its
probable effect upon the fall races ! The
porter dried his wet clothing IT the huge
Il. a IF a..
season. The gray head of the chief book
keeper was bent forward upon his ledger, and
his subdued though musical snore, blended
harmoniously with the smacking of the
small errand-bay, who, seated beneath the
high desk, was discounting the noon hour
by commencing lively skirmish with the
cakes, cheese, and outpostS. which fianked
the main body of his dinner, and even the
gas jets, lighted by reason of the heavy
weather seeing, by their tiickering flames
no activity worthy of emulation. burned in
dolently In the murky atmosphere.
Suddenly the street door turned upon its
hinges, and the change which ensued
would have done credit 10 the designer of
the transformation scene in "A great specta-
cular play. The porter began mending the
fire with all the skill and energy of born
Stoker, the small errand-hoy boltel the en-
tire currant tart at which lac had been eco
nibbling, and iudustriously re
sumed his occupation of dusting the legs of
the tall desk the gray-haired bookkeeper
awoke with n snort, and fell 10 work upon
the tail of final (, over whose delicate
curves he had lost consciousness the gas
jets increased their flames full inch, lost
their yellow hue, and seemed entering into
active competition with the electric lights
in the cafe across the street four of the
clerks began consulting lists and assort-
ing books, as If business was at its floodtide,
while the head salesman adjusted his era
vat and hurried forward TO greet the first
customer of the day.
But the first customer, tall. angular man
ofapparently sixty years. seemed in no hur-
ry 10 be greeted He leaned faded and
dripping umbrella against bookcase, un-
reeled several yards of worstcd comforter
from his elongated neck. removed a rusty
silk hat, evidently rcminisccnce of by
gone days, Strengthened his frowsy wig
wiped his steamimg spcctaclcs, and turned
the surprised salesman a pair of piercing
black eyes that seemed quite capable of
looking through him, and reading upon the
back of his collar the name of its manufact-
urcr.
Whats your name ?"
As the newcomer spoke, he darted to-
wards the breast of the salesman the long
index finger of his right hand, which caus-
ed the young man To start as if fearing the
point of dagger.
"My name" answered he lis Hooker"
"What is your age, and where do you
live ?"
81 am thirty years Of age, and reside in
Harlem" replied the now thoroughly mys-
fed salesman.
"Are you the proprietor of this establish
ment ?"
"No, sir, am only clerk. Here comes
the senior member of the firm" and Hooker
indicated a whitc-haired old gentleman who
was just entering the room from his private
office.
"What can ! do for you, sir 80 asked the
publisher, bowling politely.
"Let me see. What is your name ?"
"Dappleton, Chauncy Dappleton, at your
service.
wards the silver spectacles as if contempla-
ting n military salute, but, pausing on the
journey, unfastened three of the twelve
buttons, which secured the tight fitting
ministerial coat, and disappeared into the
depths beneath.
After several lunges and gyrations, repro
duced in miniature by the contortions of
his mobile face, the strange gentleman
brought to the surface, and thrust into the
hand of Mr. Dappleton, large card, upon
which was printed, in heavy type:
"OLIVER DILLHORN, DID, LID,
Pres. Union College,
Unionville, Tenn. ="
''Delighted TO make your acquaintance
DIR. Dillhorn," began Mr.. Dappleton, ex-
tending his hand, 81 think that several
years ago"
''The faculty and board of trustees" in
terrupted the doctor, in deep, sepulchral
voice, ''have ever had i'm view the greatest
possible good for the greatest possible mum.
Der and actuated by this noble sentiment,
coupled with the growing needs of the
country which surrounds us, and especially
stimulated thereto by an endowment fund
of twenty thousand dollars by late friend
of the college, bequeathed for the express
purpose, have, after careful, and may add,
prayerful consideration, decided to enlarge
our field of usefulness, by adding to the ex-
listing departments of the college, ridelicit
the classical, the scientific, the pharmacen.
teal, the commercial.and the post graduate,
a school of divinity and theology"
'It gives me great pleasure to learn it,